Page 102 of When the Ice Melts

With that, she picked up her bag and marched purposefully through the terminal to the security. Once she was in line, creeping along in the moving conveyor belt of people, she glanced back over her shoulder. Darius was still standing there. As he waved, his smile flashed through the crowds of people like a laser through darkness.

Addisyn returned the smile and wave. Then she resolutely squared her shoulders and looked straight ahead. This was no time for tears and fearfulness.

She was going to her sister. And somehow, she knew she had not seen the last of Darius Payne.

A story like theirs couldn’t be over.

THERE SHE WENT,his incredible girl. Darius blinked his tears back and watched her thread her way through security. Shy yet sparkling—frightened yet brave.

Oh, how he’d miss her. Miss the way his heart sang every morning when he sauntered into the coffee shop and saw her behind the counter. Miss her laugh—her sweet, marvelous laugh, like bells in his soul.

For a moment, he toyed with the idea of going with her. He’d gladly forget his job, his house, his whole life in Whistler. He’d be happy to hop a flight now to New York City and never leave her side. But he knew he couldn’t. Not at this point.

For one thing, he had to go back to Whistler. He had some healing and growing to do. He needed to practice walking God’s way alone before he could try it with someone else.

And the same was true for Addisyn. This was a journey she had to take solo—returning to the place of her greatest pain to face the person she needed most at this moment. He couldn’t make the leap for her.

He closed his eyes for a moment.God, please protect her. Give her safe travels and help her find restoration with her sister.His prayers were just that direct these days, just that simple and straightforward. He’d hidden from God for a long time. From now on, he wanted their relationship to be as clear and open as the sunlight on the mountains.

As a boy in youth group, he’d prayed eloquent, scripted prayers, as if his feeble humanity could possibly wow the Creator. Now as a man, he knew he couldn’t impress God. But—he smiled—he also knew he didn’t have to.

Thank You for sending her to me.A wave of gratitude submerged his soul. He snagged a quick breath, fighting for composure.Thank You.

Addisyn claimed he’d been a part of her healing. Well, he didn’t know about that, but he did know she’d been a huge part of his. Wasn’t it just like God to send him not only a second chance but also an amazing girl?

As he walked back into the concourse to watch her flight take off, he realized he didn’t feel any of the sadness he’d thought he might experience. He missed her, sure, but there was no sense of loss, of grief of any kind. No, all he could feel was gratitude, thankfulness that they had both escaped from the darkness...and that their relationship had been salvaged.

He was a blessed man, that was for sure. Even standing alone in a Chicago airport, watching the woman of his dreams leave. He’d come light years since Addisyn had first arrived in Whistler. If only he’d turned back to God sooner.

He sighed. For a moment he was tempted to curse the years he’d wasted wallowing in shame. But then he stopped himself.

He remembered the Bible verse Terry had shared with him.Forgetting those things which are behind, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

That’s what he’d do, all right. He’d press forward toward the mark, the prize. God was with him. That was all that mattered.

He gathered his bags and headed for security. He had his own flight to catch. But on the way, he whispered one last prayer.

That someday, when God saw fit, Addisyn and he would be together again.

AVERY FELT MORElike an outcast than ever.

She had never fit in well in New York City. She’d never embraced the hectic pace or felt any sort of solidarity with the craziness. But as she glanced at the narrow streets, thronging with swerving cars, she realized that her aversion to the city had only increased in the year she’d been away.

How had she lived—existed—here for so long? Over six years. She craned her neck to look out the window of the mustard-yellow cab in which she rode. On each side of her, perpendicular blocks of buildings sheared off the clouds—drab, ugly giants, in lackluster monotones. The only sky she could see was a narrow strip between the skyscrapers, and even it was a sad, milky pallor, as unlike the vivid blue of Colorado afternoons as could be imagined.

The cab veered sharply, jerking Avery in the seat. She glanced over at her driver. He was coolly maneuvering through the maze of traffic, apparently unruffled. Avery winced as a flashy little Fiat shot by them, scraping within twelve inches of their front bumper. She let out a breath and realized her palms were sweating. She’d remembered New York traffic as being dicey, but she’d forgotten just how bad it was.

“Ma’am, the New York Figure Skaters’ Agency, yes?” Avery’s driver was an older man with an New York accent thicker than the stream of traffic. A dilapidated Homburg hat was perched precariously on his salt-and-pepper hair.

“Yes. Thank you.” Avery studied the man as they drove. Reading him. He was busy—fairly impersonal—something on his mind, something that flicked at his edges. Something worrisome but not enormous. She caught herself and looked away.Save your soul-reading for Brian.

They turned a corner, and the needlelike Empire State Building pierced the clouds before them, a thin, elegant spire. Avery stared at it until her eyes blurred, remembering the day she took Addisyn up top. They’d yelled and waved from the observation deck like crazy celebrities until they finally burst into giggles. The memory made a bittersweet smile creep to Avery’s face.

Now they were on Thirty-seventh Street. There was Brian’s agency—a sleek modern tower of black marble. Avery fumbled in her pocket and pulled out the fare—along with a nice tip. “Thank you, sir. Have a blessed day.”

He looked up quickly and smiled an instant too late. As though her courtesy was completely unexpected. “Yes. Youse too.”

Avery stepped out of the cab onto the sidewalk and swung her backpack onto her shoulders again. Horns blared incessantly. She’d forgotten the rudeness of New York too, forgotten how just standing on the sidewalk felt like getting a million slaps from all directions. A woman talking on her cell phone shouldered past roughly. A sandwich man hawked his wares at the other end of the sidewalk. Avery dodged a gaggle of tourists and pushed open the door to the tower.

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